


MYEYNL Extras: May You Enjoy Your Cadbury Eggs

by aimmyarrowshigh



Series: May You Enjoy Your New Life [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Easter, Family Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:58:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimmyarrowshigh/pseuds/aimmyarrowshigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TIMESTAMP FOR <a href="http://higherarrowsfic.livejournal.com/1011.html">May You Enjoy Your New Life</a>. Takes place during <a href="http://higherarrowsfic.livejournal.com/17939.html">Chapter 24</a>.  <i>Millie nods staunchly.  “I will hatch every eggs.”</i></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div><b>REQUEST A MYEYNL EXTRA!</b> <a href="http://aimmyarrowshigh.tumblr.com/submit">Submit a MYEYNL-esque photo on my Tumblr (no text prompts)</a> and I will write you a MYEYNL outtake, timestamp, or scene coda.  They may be short (but at least 100 words) or long, depending on how much time and inspiration I have.
            </blockquote>





	MYEYNL Extras: May You Enjoy Your Cadbury Eggs

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [May You Enjoy Your New Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/824494) by [aimmyarrowshigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimmyarrowshigh/pseuds/aimmyarrowshigh). 



> **Character/Relationships** : Harry/Louis, mentions of Zayn/Perrie and Liam/Danielle  
>  **Rating** : G  
>  **Warnings** : None.  
>  **Story Wordcount** : 3,050  
>  **Disclaimer** : We don't own anything. No claim of knowledge or veracity is made towards anyone in the story and no aspersions or claims of character are to be inferred. We have no connection nor permissions from One Direction, X-Factor, Simon Cowell, SyCo Inc., Sony, ITV, or Columbia Records. No libel intended.  
>  **Notes** : Happy Easter to those that celebrate, and if it turns out that Harry doesn't, well, this is AU. :) A huge, huge thank-you to people who have had a continued interest in MYEYNL/my 1D fic/my writing in general; this is, obviously, for you! ♥
> 
> ***
> 
> **REQUEST A MYEYNL EXTRA!** [Submit a MYEYNL-esque photo on my Tumblr (no text prompts)](http://aimmyarrowshigh.tumblr.com/submit) and I will write you a MYEYNL outtake, timestamp, or scene coda. They may be short (but at least 100 words) or long, depending on how much time and inspiration I have. 

** May You Enjoy Your Cadbury Eggs **

On Easter morning, very early – not so long after Harry’s finally crept to bed, a smear of sneaky chocolate on his cheek – Millie pads into Harry- and Louis’ bedroom. The door creaks as it opens, something else Harry needs to worry about having fixed. Millie went to sleep wearing a bunny onesie with little paws on her feet and ears on the hood, but the hood had come down in the night and her hair is a rumpled haystack of brown curls as she climbs up onto the mattress and strides up until she can get settled in the warm gap between her dad and her mup.

Her weight falls on Harry’s arm as she sits down, and Harry opens his eyes to smile at her. “Good morning, little miss. You okay?”

Millie holds up a bit of bright blue plastic. “I find a egg in my bed!”

“You did?” Harry asks, hiding his grin. Millie looks so concerned and so confused. He rolls over to sit up a bit and lift her onto his lap. “What kind of egg do you think it is?”

“I not do know,” Millie says. She holds it up. “I check my ZooFax and I still not do know.”

Harry chuckles under his breath and smooths down some of her tickly, flyaway hair. “Really? What a mystery. Shall we break it open and see what’s inside?”

Millie jerks out of his lap with round, horrified eyes and clutches the egg to her chest with her chubby little-kid hands. “No! It will die!”

“Right.” Harry’s heart sinks. “What do you want to do with it, then?”

Millie tenderly tucks the plastic Easter egg into the front tummy pocket of her onesie. “I will hatch it and be a mum. Bertram has now a sister.”

Harry rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand, thinking of the 23 other plastic eggs, bought in America with treats for Millie in mind, hidden around the flat. “Alright. If that’s really what you want to do.”

“Yes, I do,” Millie says. “I must keep it warm until it hatches and a baby animals comes out.”

“Right, okay.” Harry pushes the blankets down and kisses the back of Louis’ shoulder before getting out of bed. Millie hugs him around the knees, bent out so she doesn’t crush the egg with her tummy. Harry smiles down at her and pets her hair again. “Your bunny hat fell off.” He reaches to fix it and adjusts her floppy ears. “There we are. D’you want to help me make breakfast?”

“Yes, please,” Millie says. “I do the stirbakin.”

“Sure,” Harry agrees. “You can do the stirring. D’you think we should make some muffins today?”

“I want more crossbuns, please.”

“No, we had those the other day; you don’t need more hot cross buns. And you like muffins anyhow.”

Millie stops short in front of Harry, halfway down the corridor. “Daddy! There’s another eggs on the floor!” Millie crouches down and picks it up. “This one is orange. It must be the brother.”

“It must be,” Harry agrees, watching as Millie tucks the orange plastic egg into her pocket beside the blue. “Are you… going to hatch that one, too?”

Millie nods staunchly. “I will hatch every eggs. What animal getted in the house yesterday night, Daddy? Did you see it?”

“No, I didn’t,” Harry says, sighing. “Maybe a giant rabbit.”

“That’s is silly,” Millie giggles. “Rabbits is mammals, Daddy. They doesn’t lay eggs.”

“What was I thinking?” Harry hits his forehead with the heel of his palm. “Silly Daddy. What kinds of animals lay eggs, then, little bean?”

“Birds,” Millie says. “And lizards and reptiles. And fish! This not is a amp’bee-an egg nor a fish egg. I think it is a dragon eggs.”

“Dragon eggs?” Harry asks, shuffling her down the corridor and into the kitchen. He knows that there are three eggs hidden in this room, too, all different colors. “How d’you figure?”

“Well.” Millie totters off to check on her play kitchen and squeals when she pulls a yellow egg out of its faux oven. She tucks it, too, into her pocket before saying, “They’s different colors. And I check my ZooFax and dragons isn’t there, and this eggs isn’t, neither.”

“That’s very smart, little bean,” Harry says, impressed. “Good logic there.”

“Thank you,” Millie chirps. There’s a plastic bang as she shunts around some pretend pots and pans in her little toy kitchen. “What’s is lodge-ick?”

“Erm, it’s hard to explain,” Harry says. He opens the refrigerator and stealthily moves a pink plastic egg from the crisper onto the counter, so Millie won’t get nervous about how cold it is. “It’s just like, braininess.”

“What’s braininess?” Louis asks from the kitchen door. He stretches and the tips of his fingers just barely brush the doorframe. “My idea for peppermint spaghetti?”

“No,” Harry says fervently. “That’s a horrible idea.”

“Is not,” Louis argues, meeting Millie halfway across the kitchen as she runs for him, arms up to be lifted. He tosses her in the air and catches her to kiss her cheeks on the catch. “Garlic bread makes your breath reek. Peppermint spaghetti is a preemptive measure.”

“That’s – it’s logical, but it’s still not a good idea,” Harry concedes. “Little bean, what do you have to say to Mup this morning?”

“Happ’easter,” Millie greets, then beams. “I find three eggs in our house!”

“Did you?” Louis asks. He pulls a red egg from his pajamas pocket. “I found one, too. Shall we crack it open and see what’s in it?”

“No!” Millie shrieks. She snatches for the egg. “It will die! You and Daddy is bad at eggs logic.”

Louis has the decency to look contrite at that, at least until Millie ducks her head to coo at the egg and kiss its plastic shell before pocketing it in the front of her onesie – then Louis looks over to Harry with his best _what the fuck is happening?_ eyebrows.

Sifting the dried cherries and pineapple into his bowl, Harry gives Louis a soft smile and purses his lips to invite a kiss. Once he’s granted one, he says cheerfully, “Mills, tell Muppie what sort of egg you think that is.”

“They’s dragon eggs,” Millie explains. “I am to hatch them. I will keep them warm.”

“Will you now?” Louis swings her around so that she’s perched on one of his hips. Together they sweep around the kitchen in a grand arc, gathering clinking mugs to set near the kettle and begin its morning boil. “You’ll just sit on eggs all day like a penguin mum?”

“Penguin mums doesn’t sit on the eggs,” Millie says. “Daddies does.”

Louis kisses Millie just above her real ear and below her bunny ear. “I think I like penguins.”

Millie giggles. “Me, too.”

“Me, three,” Harry declares. He measures orange juice into his batter before turning to get the marzipan out of the refrigerator. The sun is shining over the tops of the blinds and he wants to throw open the window to let in a breeze, switch on the radio, and sing along as he bakes, maybe does a few wobbly soft-cooked eggs and bacon to have with the sweet simnel cake muffins. He knew, from the moment he’d heard that Millie would be born, that he would take care of house for her and his family, but he never thought that he’d come to like it as much as he does and take pride in a little routine like this. Though normally, Louis is either at the studio or still asleep at this hour, and Millie isn’t bandying about lecturing on the proper way to raise dragons, getting all under foot. 

Well, she is normally under foot and talking about some type of lizards. But she’s usually more distractible. 

“Hey, little bean, d’you know what?” Harry asks, “I think I was wrong before when I said I didn’t see an animal get inside last night. I think I saw a big shadow in the living room. Can you go look around really well and see if there’s any eggs hidden?”

Millie’s eyes light up and she claps her hands twice, once against each other and once against Louis’ cheeks, making him wince. “Let’s go, Muppie! You can help me find the dragon eggs!”

“Right,” Louis says. “It’s normal for there to be dragon eggs to be hidden in London flats. See it all the time, don’tcha?”

“No,” Millie says seriously as they turn the corner. “I think I am the first to have some dragons in mine house. What do they do eat?”

“Erm, villagers, mostly,” says Louis, and then they’re quieted to a pleasant background lull as Harry opens the window and a scatter of birdsong twitters into the kitchen. 

He flicks on the radio, too, Caroline’s friend Nick’s voice – Harry knows him and they’ve had lunch a few times while Louis’ been at work and Millie’s at preschool – crackles in. Harry’s called in to a few of his shows, and Millie picked up his mobile to a game of Call & Delete last time Cazza was in the studio. She was very earnest, and tried very hard to help Caroline pick out an absolutely perfect surprise party gift for Harry.

(Headlines for a week trumpeted about Harry’s hidden desire for a new vacuum cleaner.)

It doesn’t take long to get the muffins into the oven, and then Harry putters around enjoying his own quiet as he scrolls through Twitter on his mobile and drinks a cup of tea, no milk, no sugar. Once the muffins are cooling, he sets to the eggs, making up a scramble for Millie and soft-set for himself and Louis, and plenty of bacon and more tea.

“Guys!” he calls once the table is set, “Breakfast! Time to leave your egg hunt!”

“I’m coming!” Millie shouts back. She sounds muffled. “Muppie is coming, too!”

When she staggers through the kitchen door, Harry has to cover his mouth to hide his bark of laughter. She’s evidently found all two dozen eggs, and all of them are stuffed into the tummy pocket of her onesie, giving her the lumpy, overstuffed look of a pufferfish.

“Daddy!” she crows. “We will have so many dragon babies!”

“Oh, yes,” Harry agrees. “But Millie, can you _see_?”

“No.” Millie sounds completely content. “I’m full of dragons.”

“I can see that.” Harry pats her head between her bunny ears. “Why don’t you find somewhere nice and safe to put your eggs while you eat?”

Millie heaves a giant sigh, and her plastic eggshells rattle. “Okay. I be right back.”

She takes two cross-legged steps and starts toppling over from the heft of eggs. 

“Whoa, there!” Louis chides gently, catching Millie’s shoulders. “Need some help steering, little bean?”

“Yes, please,” Millie says. She holds her hands out at her sides like the floor is a tightrope. “Pertect me and my dragons, Muppie.”

Louis’ lips press together to contain a laugh, and his blue eyes glimmer at Harry as he turns to say over his shoulder, quietly: “Not a toddler. A _khaleesi_.”

Harry practically has to hide in the refrigerator to howl in laughter at what an utter geek Zayn’s turned Louis into and at what an utter, utter failure this attempt at an Easter has become. All he’d wanted was to give Millie a cute little egg hunt with the treasure-eggs he’d found in a 24-hour drug store in America, and instead he’s got a nutter kid who thinks she can hatch a clutch of two dozen dragons in a fourth-floor flat in London.

Louis comes back a minute later and slides his arms around Harry’s waist from behind where Harry’s still bent into the fridge. “I told her no dragon eggs at the table. They might get upset we’re eating regular eggs. She thought that seemed logical.”

“Of course it did,” Harry giggles, standing. His face is cold, anyway. Louis’ grip loosens just enough that Harry can turn in his arms and embrace Louis in reply; he tilts his head down to give Louis a kiss.

Louis’ hands slip into the back pockets of Harry’s jeans and they sway absently to the music still crooning from the radio until Millie comes back to the kitchen, pigeon-toed and with her onesie misshapen.

“Did you find somewhere safe?” Harry asks, and detaches himself from Louis to bend and kiss her cheek.

“Yes.” Millie nods. “I putted my dragon eggs somewhere very safe and warm to hatch them.”

“Good job, little bean,” Harry says. “Now uppy to the table. Your food-eggs will get cold.”

A while later, Millie is lying on her belly in the living room, putting Bertram the chameleon through his paces on a multicolored pillow. She’s humming out of key and trailing a piece of string on the floor as though Bertram can follow it when his eyes go every direction but forwards.

Louis is napping on the sofa just above her, and Harry’s hands are still damp and hot from the dishes when he settles in beside Millie on the carpet. He runs his fingers through her mussed hair, the hood of her bunny onesie forgotten. 

“Where did you put your eggs, bean? I’m surprised you’re not sitting on them.”

“I not do need to,” Millie assures him. “I putted them somewhere even more better than my tummy.”

“Really?” Harry asks. “Where’s that?”

“I show you,” Millie says. She clucks a bit and sticks out her tongue and coaxes Bertram to climb onto her shoulder for a ride. She takes Harry’s hand and helps him up from the floor, knees cracking, and leads him to her room.

Bertram’s terrarium is completely filled with plastic easter eggs, the sunlamp on high shining over them.

“See?” Millie sounds triumphant. “It’s a ink-a-bator. Like the zoo!”

A light, wet sizzling sound is coming from the terrarium, and there’s a thin sheen of white smoke in the air above the eggs. Harry can already see the black shadows of melted chocolate slumping over their insides. 

“Oh, dear,” Harry sighs. “Millie, that was very smart, but I don’t think it was a good idea with _these_ eggs.”

“Why not?” 

Harry trods across her room quickly to shut off the lamp. He wraps his hand in a spare towel they keep for wiping up spills of Bertram’s misting water and takes out a pink egg. It comes apart in his hand and its chocolate and marshmallow crème guts spill out across the towel.

Millie’s face is stricken. “Oh, no! No, no, no! What did I do wrong?”

“Well,” Harry says, sheepishly, “It wasn’t your fault. I should have told you they weren’t really dragon eggs.”

“What is they?” Millie’s lower lip is fat. “Did I make them died?”

“No, sweetie,” Harry promises. “No, no, not at all. They were never alive.”

“Like food-eggs?”

“Kind of,” Harry admits. “They were just Easter eggs filled with chocolate.”

“They was?” Millie’s eyes are still shiny. Bertram is huge on her tiny shoulder, and he flicks his tongue out to lick her cheek. “I get no dragons?”

“No, little bean, you don’t get any dragons,” Harry says. “We should have told you before. But you have a Bertram, and he loves you. He’s like a small dragon, isn’t he?”

“I guess he is, but I not did hatch him myself,” Millie sighs. “Why was my eggs filled with chocolate?”

“I don’t know,” Harry says. “They just were. Usually that’s what’s in Easter eggs. Chocolate or little toys or marshmallows.”

“Can I eat them now?”

“No, they’re all melted and burnt.”

Millie sits down hard on the floor and Bertram’s clawed hands clutch into her shoulder. “Aw, nuts! No dragons and no chocolates!”

Harry chuckles as he drags her bin over to the terrarium and starts dropping ruined eggs into the bag. “I’m sorry, little bean.”

Millie shrugs the shoulder not currently occupied by lizard. “It is okay. I just want to hatch things and eat sweets. I am a simple girl!”

Once the terrarium is cleaned, Harry helps Millie get Bertram settled in again, and then they wake Louis and drag him to the cinema because Millie wants popcorn and Harry feels badly that she lost all of her Easter treats. She sighs loudly more often than usual. When Harry is tucking her into bed that night, fresh from her bath and full of Easter ham and potatoes, he kisses her cheek and says, “I’m sorry my present made you sad.”

“It’s is not your fault,” Millie says softly. She pets at Harry’s fringe. “Maybe I am not to be good at hatching.”

The next day, Louis comes home from the ITV studios with a big box wrapped in a bow.

“Millie!” he calls. “Come here, I have something for you.”

Millie’s bare feet slap against the floor as she comes running, and Harry follows her, more quietly, and wearing his socks. “What’s is it?”

“Open it and see,” Louis says. He’s set the box down very carefully on their coffee table.

Millie tugs at the bows and sees –

“Yuck!” Millie yells. “You bring me ugly died leafs and a bug?”

“No, silly,” Louis laughs. He bends down to smooth her curls and kisses the top of her head even though she looks a bit riotous. “I felt bad that you didn’t get to hatch any dragons, so I thought we could hatch some butterflies as a family project. Would you like that?”

Millie nods, but looks dubious. “I think they is died, Muppie. They is all white and goopy.”

“They’re not dead; those are their _chrysalises_ ,” Louis explains. “They’re like butterfly eggs. In about a week, they’ll come out of their chrysalises and we can feed them sugar water.”

“I like sugar water,” Millie confirms. She wrinkles her nose at the sheaths of cocoon clinging to branches in their enclosure, but turns her head to beam at Louis. “Thank you, mine Muppie. I like to hatch things.”

“I know you do,” Louis says, and lets her hug him tight around the middle. “Millie Ann Styles, X-Factor born. Mother of butterflies.”

[](http://statcounter.com/free-web-stats/)


End file.
